


Epithet

by write_away



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mild Angst, Winter Soldier in recovery, but bittersweet ending, post-CATWS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:23:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1532435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_away/pseuds/write_away
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> He is not Bucky Barnes anymore. </i>
</p>
<p>The Winter Soldier tries to be the man he used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epithet

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Marvel fic - I'm a little hesitant because I'm really only familiar with the MCU, but I hope you enjoy!

_Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,_   
_Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid:_   
_Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,_   
_As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head._   
  
_But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,_   
_Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;_   
_And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,_   
_Shall long keep his memory green in our souls._

-"Oh! Breathe Not His Name" by Thomas Moore

* * *

 

He is not Bucky Barnes.

There's no doubt that he was, he can't deny that. He's seen the videos, read the books, read his own file with JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES typed neatly across the top with his rank and number in the boxes beneath. He was once Bucky Barnes and he can't avoid that numbing, crushing realization that he is not anymore.

Or he is. Rogers tells him he is. He calls him Bucky, encourages others to call him Bucky, tries to remind him that he _is_ Bucky. The Winter Soldier doesn't know how to tell him that he already knows, so he doesn't. His mind is muddled, anyway, and Bucky Barnes seems like a nice man to be.

So he tries. He tries to be him, tries to become the good man he remembers and reads about. He wants to be, he wants that so bad that it hurts in his gut and lungs and chest and arm that isn't even there. He makes Anthony Stark take off the weaponry and replace it with a normal prosthetic limb.

(The part of his mind that is still a weapon - the larger part, if he's being honest - looks at Anthony and sees Howard, sees a living target, sees a mistake, and he must suppress the urge to fix the defect by slaughtering him on the spot. He confesses this urge to Natasha, and the next day, they move him out of his little apartment and into Avengers Tower where they can keep a closer eye on him.)

He tries so hard to be normal, to laugh, to go out with the people who have stupidly decided that it's safe to be his friends. He watches movies, reads up on history, dances alone to songs from the forties in Stark's living room until Rogers finds him and joins in, smiling and whispering old jokes that the Winter Soldier vaguely remembers from when he was Bucky.

He is not Bucky anymore.

Bucky would not have innocent blood on his hands, but the Winter Soldier made them drip with it. He remembers being Bucky, but he also remembers the time he drove knives into his victim's body and twisted them, remembers reveling in the screams, remembers watching the life expire and loving it. He remembers being a murderer.

The Winter Soldier has tainted Bucky Barnes and Rogers cannot undo that, no matter how many therapists he drags in.

It's not that they don't help, because after a long, long time, they do. After a while, his laughter feels a little genuine and he thinks fondly on the people who are still stupidly sticking by his side. He looks up local dance clubs and drags Rogers - no, drags _Steve_ to them on Friday nights. His nightmares are still constant, but he remembers to keep a trash can next to his bed for when he is forced to relive something that he hates. He does not try to kill Tony Stark, and even helps him design a new arm.

But he is still not Bucky. It would be cruel to take the goodness from the name.

"Hey, Bucky, pass the salt?" Clint asks one night at dinner. Steve thinks having team dinners every so often is a good idea, and Pepper usually manages to wrangle everyone, even Tony, to the table. It took a while for the Winter Soldier to join. He does not think he is part of the team. He enjoys dinner, though.

The Winter Soldier's prosthetic hand is hovering over the salt when he stops. "Call me James," he says softly. "Please?"

There is a silence around the table as everyone looks toward Steve for their answer, and Steve looks toward James for his. He is smiling, faintly, a little sadly, but he nods.

"Whatever you want, James," Steve assures him, like he has so many times in these past few months.

James nods. It feels better than Bucky, feels less like he's ruining a great man with his terrible memories, and it certainly feels better than Winter Soldier. Perhaps soon it'll feel _right_.

"Thanks," he says and passes the salt.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
